Down the tree
by Inomuiro
Summary: A look in the past, how Braig got his scar on the face and how a bizarre friendship was born. Kids Braig and Dilan.


Just a little look at how Braig got his scar, how Dilan got mind-scarred forever in believing Braig would end dying in front of his eyes while doing something extremely stupid, and how a friendship was born against all odds. Braig is 12 here, and Dilan 8. Everything fanon.

**DOWN THE TREE**

The worst thing was not to be able to complain. Like that, all Braig could do was lay down, feel the pain and think about the stupidity of the whole thing. Yeah, that was it. The fall itself had been much less a trouble... too busy actually falling to stop thinking how much a bloody stupid he had been, lose his hold because of a damn squirrel, of all things, and too busy getting hit by any damn branch on the way down to really feel the pain. After the fall both his mind and body had been too numb to feel anything at all, but some distant yelling, and the brat's presence.

It was only when he had come back to his senses, laying on the infirmary bed, all stitched-up and with his arm and leg hold still with sticks, that hell had really begun. All the left side of his face felt hot and swollen, it pulsed, and itched where the stiches held the skin together, and his whole jaw ached dully. He could not open his mouth, or else fits of pain took over all his head and neck. Even breathing through it and swallowing hurt. Great... he could not move, he could not sleep, he could not even turn and try to get in a more comfortable position, because the slightest movement would have sent a spiderweb of pain over his whole body... he could not even _groan_ at the torture! He closed his eyes. Maybe if he concentrated enough he could pass away again and wake up when all that was finished, and the pain had gone away. If only it would have stopped _itching_ so damn hard... if he touched the wound it would only get worse, he already tried that...

Steps approaching, too light to be those of one of the nurse, or of the teachers. Braig opened one eye and glanced to the right, feeling the immediate need to snort and blocking it. Him again. The younger kid stood still at the bed's side, the usual angry look plastered on his face, brows frowning and lips closed in a tight pout. How had he got inside the infirmatory... well, probably in the same way he sneaked inside the Orphanage Director's office, stealing his register just like Braig had dared him to. He could be a fucking ninja, if he wanted to... so the brat had won the challenge, shut Braig up, and the twelve years old had found himself obliged to accept his dare. Something so stupid as get to the top of that bloody tree...

Dilan just kept on staring at the hurt boy, in silence. That was what he did so well. Stare with an intensity no 8-years old should be allowed to have, don't say a word, and get on everybody's nerves. Braig had immediately took a liking for mocking him, try to see how far he could go, if he could break that annoying silence.

"They said you could have lost an eye."

Braig glanced at him again, tilting his head just a little. Dilan seemed smaller somehow, shoulders hunched, fists clenched in a grip tight enough to make his knuckles white. He looked down.

"They said you could have died."

Not likewise, everybody said Braig got more than nine lives... the boy wanted to shrug, but it was kind of hard with a broken arm and everything, so he just rolled his eyes. That definitely wasn't the craziest thing he had done in his life, and for sure it wasn't going to be the last! So why was the brat so worked up about this?

It had been the only thing he could see, after the hard impact, his breath knocked out, his leg bended at a weird angle and somehow not hurting so much, yet. Dilan's face, his eyes huge, the hugest he had ever seen, as he leant over him, hands pressing over the bad wound on his face, trying to stop the bleeding with his own shirt. Braig got hit on the face by a particulary sharp broken branch, sharp and hard enough to rip away the skin and almost break his jaw. Just his luck.

Dilan's shirt was still dirty with dried blood. Nobody around paid attention to him, like usual.

A sudden suspect.

"Have... you... ouch!" Braig tried not to move his mouth, just forming words with his lips and the less voice he could use. "Have you told them... why I got up there?"

Dilan shaked his head, still looking away, still so small. Braig felt almost like smiling but he couldn't.

"Good. I'm not going either." he breathed. Dilan's eyes snapped up and he looked at the older boy, confused, and that was just so stupid of him, Braig thought. No one of the adults was going ask the kid about it, while Braig was known for doing crazy things like that, so that was all right. He would have already enough troubles on the following weeks, without having to worry also about the kid getting punished.

Silence stretched for a while in the small, white room, till Dilan took a step forward, his gaze piercing like a spear. "I'm watching over you." he said.

What...? "Hey, I don't need a brat w..." Pain, again, and the boy cursed mentally enough to get a whole week of punishment. He glared at the other kid. What the fuck he thought he was doing?

"I'm watching over you." Dilan said again, with the same convinction one of their teachers would have used to enunciate an universal truth. He sat down on the floor, his back to the bed, hands over his knees, eyes fixed on the closed door. Braig wanted to snicker. That was somehow so like the kid...

"It wasn't your fault, stupid." he whispered. Dilan didn't answer and just kept on doing his sentinel's job. Braig sighed, and closed his eyes, finally feeling himself drifting away towards sleep. No, it wasn't the kid's fault... neither was his own, he was sure about it. It had been the damn squirrel's fault. And gravity's too. Yeah, that was it.

Gravity... he so would have got back at the bitch one day...

FIN


End file.
